


Familia Sumus

by ProneToRelapse



Series: Demons & Domesticity [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Demons, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Demon Connor, Demon Josh, Demon Markus, Demon Nines, Demon North, Demon Simon, Hank has IssuesTM, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Meet the Family, Romance, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 03:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15877506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProneToRelapse/pseuds/ProneToRelapse
Summary: Hank hates meeting in-laws. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to deal with that considering his boyfriend is, you know, a demon.Turns out, even demons have annoying siblings.





	Familia Sumus

“So… Eight million?” Hank asks, pushing sweat-slicked hair back from his forehead while his heart rate slows and his breathing evens.  

 

Connor raises his head from where it’s pillowed on Hank’s chest, looking up at him with an amused tilt to his kiss-swollen lips. “You’re still stuck on that?” 

 

“I mean, yeah.” Hank shakes a few errant hairs out of his face, slipping his hands down to rest comfortably in the delicate divot of Connor’s lower back, always pleasantly cool. “Are you like, related related?” 

 

“As opposed to?” 

 

“I don’t know, like… not.” 

 

Connor stretches cat-like with a soft hum, nuzzling his face against Hank’s chest. “We were created together, we fell together. We don’t really recognise family ties the way humans and angels do. Demons recognise a stricter hierarchy of power. But the demons I consider my closer siblings are more like me.” 

 

“And they… Feel? Like you do now? Or are they still… You know.” 

 

Connor purses his lips in a thoughtful expression. “I’ve never really thought about it. I suppose we have a degree of affection for each other. We have the capacity to feel, we just have to learn how. I wouldn’t be surprised if they already knew how, they’re more experienced with humans than I was when you summoned me. Markus spends a lot of time on Earth, I’m sure he knows how to feel. The others, I’m not sure. Josh is a scholar, so it seems likely. Simon is a succubus, so I’m sure he has some degree of knowledge about emotions. North… Well. North is a bit of a contradiction.” 

 

“And Nines?” 

 

“I don’t think so. He’s not very fond of humanity. He doesn’t hate them as much as North does. I think he sees them as little more than insects.” 

 

“Oh, charming.” 

 

Connor smiles that tiny, soft smile that has Hank all kinds of fucked up, pressing soft kisses into the nest of greying hair on Hank’s chest. “You don’t need to worry,” Connor murmurs into his skin. “I love you. They’ll warm up to you eventually.” 

 

Hank wriggles a little with an unsure sound. “I feel like the “eventually” isn’t as reassuring as you thought it would be.” 

 

Connor just hums, lips brushing over a nipple that has Hank sucking in a sharp breath as he tries to hiss out an accusation. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you.” 

 

Connor winks at him, little pink tongue flicking out over the nub with just enough pressure to be teasing. “Depends. Is it working?” 

 

Hank narrows his eyes at him. Connor grins back, nudging his thigh between Hank’s legs where the evidence lies that Connor’s attempt at distraction is, in fact, working. Hank would be more put out if he wasn’t so pleased at the fact he’s able to get it up twice in one night. After all, he  _is_ pushing fifty.  

 

“We  _will_  talk about this later,” Hank threatens, leaning as far to the side for the bedside drawer as he can. Connor makes a displeased noise as his devilish – hah – mouth is interrupted.  

 

“What are you doing?” He complains as Hank roots around in the drawer, pawing at his chest.  

 

“Gimme a sec,” Hank grunts, fingers stretching until he feels what he’s searching for and drags it closer so he can lift it out. He settles back down to meet Connor’s gaze and the demon is actually pouting and it’s so endearing that Hank has to crane his neck up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Connor huffs, cheeks colouring slightly.  

 

“Sorry this always happens in the bedroom,” Hank says, smiling faintly. “Just seems like the best place. Just you ‘n’ me.” 

 

Connor frowns and shifts back a little as Hank moves up so both his hands are free. He holds up his left, flicking open the lid of the small black box in his hand and offers it to Connor, who’s face shifts from confusion to shock so quickly Hank gets a mild case of whiplash.  

 

“Fuck, don’t look so surprised,” Hank mutters, flushing. “You already said yes, right?” 

 

Connor scrambles upright, sheets tangled round his legs as he sits up, straddling Hank’s waist and Hank tries very hard to focus on the fact that he’s officially proposing this time and not the fact that Connor is sitting astride him with a very bare hard on. He lifts the box up again and Connor takes it in trembling fingers.  

 

“Wanted to make it official,” Hank says gruffly. “Demonic bargain notwithstanding.” 

 

Connor’s voice, when he finally speaks, is so choked with emotion that it comes out layered in that otherworldly way it does when he’s overwhelmed. “Do I have to put it on myself?” 

 

Hank grins, relief and something very much like excitement surging through his blood. “No, I can do that.” Carefully he lifts the ring out, titanium band with a single stripe of onyx circling the middle, taking Connor’s left hand in his and sliding the ring home. It fits perfectly because Hank is a damn good detective who can find out his demon boyfriend’s ring size without clueing him in.  

 

Connor, surprisingly vain creature that he is, immediately holds his hand out, turning it this way and that as he admires the ring that shines against his pale skin. A low purr thrums through his chest, the most contented sound he can make. Hank strokes his hands over Connor’s thighs, not above admitting that he’s openly staring in awe at this beautiful not-quite-man that’s effectively pieced his life back together and chosen to stay with him for… 

 

For… 

 

Wait.  

 

“Uh, Connor?” 

 

“Mmmm…” Connor slowly drags his gaze away from the ring, eyes bright with tears and a smile so beatific that Hank might actually go blind from looking at it too long.  

 

“Love you,” Hank says instead, because he doesn’t actually care about how long the deal will last or if he might’ve actually accidentally become immortal, not when Connor is looking at him like he single handedly stole a star from the sky and offered it to him. All that shit can wait until later.  

 

He pulls Connor down with a soft hand round the back of his neck, rolling them until Connor is spread out beneath him and purring so loudly the bed vibrates. They kiss, long and slow, not separating until Hank’s lungs are burning and his head is spinning and he rolls his hips to sink into Connor’s willing and waiting body with a low, blissful groan.  

 

 

— 

 

 

Cole doesn’t seem to give one single crap about Hank and Connor’s engagement when they tell him. He’s a smart kid, understands the concept, but he just looks at them both in turn when they tell him and gives the most seven-year-old appropriate answer in response.  

 

“That’s cool, can I have a cookie?” 

 

Hank laughs and ruffles his hair while Connor smiles and says he can have  _one_  but better eat all of his vegetables at dinner and Cole agrees because he’s a damn good kid and Hank couldn’t be prouder.  

 

“Not even gonna congratulate us, kiddo?” Hank teases and Cole shrugs, taking the cookie from Connor with a quiet “thanks, papa.” 

 

“I thought you was already,” he says around a mouthful of chocolate chips. “Does this mean you’re gonna have a wedding?” 

 

“Yeah,” Hank says, a little hoarsely, flashbacks of his first wedding streaming through his head. God, what a clusterfuck that’d been.  

 

“Not in a church,” Connor interjects and Hank frowns at him briefly, prompting Connor to give him a look that says he thinks Hank may in fact be something of an idiot.  

 

Oh. Right. Demon.  

 

Okay, maybe he is a bit of an idiot.  

 

“Cool,” Cole says again. “Can I go play now?” 

 

“Yeah, go on,” Hank says, hopeless fond. “Back in when it gets dark and take Sumo with you.” 

 

Cole grabs the dog by the collar and both of them bound out into the yard, creatures of endless energy and excitement. Hank can barely remember being that young.  

 

“Oh, right, I was going to ask.” Hank turns to Connor, arms folded. “The deal.” 

 

Connor side-eyes him suspiciously. “What deal?” 

 

“Our deal.” 

 

“Ah. That one.” 

 

“Yeah,  _that_  one.” Hank raises an eyebrow. Connor squirms uncomfortably. “What exactly were the terms you took for that? I know what  _I_ said. What exactly did you agree to?” 

 

“Any particular reason for you asking?” Connor will absolutely not look at him and Hank knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has him cornered and his vague hunch had been, as usual, right on the money.  

 

God, he’s a damn good detective.  

 

“Yeah, Connor, there’s a particular reason.” Hank reaches for a knife in the block on the counter, holding it up above his palm. Connor’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to no doubt try to stop him, but Hank slices a thin line across his palm before he can say anything.  

 

“Hank!” Connor exclaims, a second too late and, yeah, maybe that was a bit of a stupid way to prove a point because it fucking smarts like a bitch, but Hank’s always been better with actions than words.  

 

He holds his bleeding palm up with a pointed expression as the cut, deep enough to normally warrant stitches, slowly closes itself and fades down to a thin pink line.  

 

“When were you gonna tell me our deal literally constitutes forever?” Hank challenges. “Am I immortal now or what? Can I actually die? Like, ever?” 

 

Connor looks for all the world like a trapped animal. His eyes dart around like he’s looking for a way out, body tensed and ready to run. Hank doesn’t actually put it past him not to launch himself out of the kitchen window.  

 

“I’m not mad,” Hank says. “I promise I’m not.” 

 

Connor relaxes ever so slightly. “I was going to mention it.” 

 

“Yeah? When?” 

 

“…Eventually.” Connor sighs, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn’t— You humans are so  _fragile._ You’re here one day, then the next— gone. Do you know how high the percentage is of you going to sleep and not waking up in the morning?” 

 

“No, and I’d rather you didn’t tell me, thanks.” 

 

Connor gives him a flat look. “Well, I do. And it scares me. Remember when that runner pushed you off the roof?” 

 

Hank remembers. Vividly. He’d never wanted to see that cold fury in Connor’s eyes again, dark and unholy. “I remember.” 

 

“I came so close to losing you. I never wanted to feel like that again. Even before we… Even before we were anything to each other. Before we had this, our family, I… Before there was even the chance of anything between us, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” 

 

“Hey,” Hank says, pulling Connor into his arms. “I get it. I do. I summoned a wholeass demon to get my son back, remember?” 

 

Connor laughs weakly into his shoulder. “A wholeass demon?” 

 

“Well, I wasn’t gonna summon a half-ass demon.” 

 

Connor laughs again, slipping his arms round Hank’s waist. “Promise you’re not angry?” 

 

“Promise,” Hank says, kissing his temple and mentally running through how in the fuck to deal with the knowledge that he no longer has a mortal end.  

 

What the  _fuck._  

 

 

— 

 

 

Turns out Hank deals with it how he deals with everything else in life. 

 

He absolutely does not think about it. He locks that thought in a box, slams it behind a door and throws away the key. He will absolutely not think about it until he has to because the ensuing mental breakdown is definitely not what he wants to deal with right now.  

 

Not when he’s apparently hosting for his future in-laws in a  _week._  

 

“A little more warning would’ve been nice,” he grumbles, trying his absolute hardest not to be lulled into blissful happiness by the warmth of Cole asleep half draped over his lap with Sumo curled up on his legs, and Connor nestled snugly under his arm while the last half hour of a movie plays quietly on the television. It’s so fucking perfect Hank wants to die.  

 

But he can’t. How ironic.  

 

nOPE. Not thinking about that. Box is locked.  _Forever._  

 

“A week is a perfectly acceptable level of time for you to prepare yourself,” Connor says, voice pitched low to avoid waking Cole. He reaches out, stroking their son’s hair softly and Hank’s stupid heart flutters with so much love he can’t take it.  

 

“Well, how many of them are coming over? Out of your  _eight million siblings.”_  

 

He can  _hear_  Connor rolling his eyes. “Five. Is that acceptable?” 

 

“…Slightly.” 

 

“I don’t know why you’re so against it,” Connor says. “Isn’t it customary to meet your significant other’s family before you marry?” 

 

“Well, yeah, but I’m slightly concerned about the demon part of it. We have a picture of your sister on the fridge that Cole drew and, if you haven’t noticed, it has  _six fucking eyes.”_  

 

“Well, she likes to show off.” 

 

“Connor—“ 

 

“Shh,” Connor hisses, quieting Cole’s soft mumbles with gentle fingers in his hair. “Stop being so obtuse. They want to meet you and they’re the closest family I have. Isn’t there anyone you want to introduce me to?” 

 

Hank thinks about that. Both his parents died years ago, and he hasn’t spoken to his sister since shortly after Cole was born. He’d texted Andy to let her know he was getting remarried, he’d felt he owed her that at least, and she’d said she didn’t give a fuck and that she’d be down for Cole’s birthday in September.  

 

“I mean,” Hank says haltingly. “There’s my sister, but we haven’t spoken in over seven years. I don’t have any other family. Cole’s the only one who matters and, well. You know he adores you.” 

 

Connor smiles faintly. “I want them to know you,” he says in that charmingly disarming sincere way of his. For someone who learned emotions from  _Hank_ of all people, he sure has a fucking better grip on them than he does. “I want them to know the man I love. I want them to see how happy I am with my family.” 

 

“Go— Fucking damn it,” Hank mutters. Quietly. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that? A menace.” 

 

“I know,” Connor says happily. “And you’re the light of my life.” 

 

“I fucking love you,” Hank grumbles.  

 

 

— 

 

 

Hank takes the day off work so he can spend at least nine hours dreading the whole thing. He drops Cole off to school then wanders aimlessly through the house, getting in Connor’s way more than helping as he cleans the whole place top to bottom and starts preparing some kind of extravagant meal that Hank is pretty sure won’t even fit on the— 

 

“Did you buy a new table?” He splutters, staring at the extended oak monstrosity that’s taking up the majority of space in his living room. How had he not noticed?! 

 

“Just for tonight,” Connor says, halfway through mopping the kitchen floor. “And I didn’t buy it, don’t worry.” 

 

“I feel like I should.” 

 

“Then worry.” 

 

Hank snorts, unable to stop himself. “Then perish.” 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“It’s a— When I was younger, there was… Never mind.” 

 

Hank retreats to the safety of his bedroom after that, scrolling anxiously through his tablet while he waits for Connor’s inevitable summons that he needs to get dressed in some smart outfit Connor’s probably already bought for him. He always hated the whole “meet the family” part of relationships. God knows Andy’s parents had absolutely hated him. He kind of hoped that marrying a demon wouldn’t come with that bit.  

 

He should’ve known he wouldn’t be  _that_ lucky.  

 

Two hours later, an hour and a half before they have to leave to get Cole from school, Connor appears in the doorway, hands on his hips. Hank puts his tablet down and swallows, already dreading whatever is going to come next.  

 

“I just want to say,” Connor says, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “That I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. And that you’re willing to meet my siblings, even if you aren’t very good at hiding your displeasure.” 

 

“Uhh,” Hank says succinctly.  

 

“But I would like a guarantee that you’ll be on your best behaviour tonight.” 

 

Hank frowns at that. “Well, shit, Con, I’m not gonna do anything to upset your family, I  _do_  actually want them to like me.” Hank just has… Issues. Yeah, that works.  

 

“I know.” Connor’s smile is soft and— He’s not wearing a shirt. Hank is absolutely sure he was wearing one when he came in. “But I feel like a little incentive might help.” 

 

“Uhh,” Hank says, back to peak eloquence once more. Connor, sinuous, seductive,  _sinful_  creature that he is, kneels on the bed, crawling towards Hank with salacious intent.  

 

“Hank,” Connor purrs, nestling between his legs, hands folded in his lap in some twisted mockery of innocence that is definitely not working. His eyes slowly fade to black, sclera disappearing as his pupils expand. His horns push through the skin of his forehead, curling up over his head, obsidian black and fucking magnificent.  

 

 _Forgive me, father, for I have sinned,_ Hank thinks, somewhat hysterically. Who’d‘ve thought the sight of his fiancé – Hank thrills embarrassingly at that – in all his demonic glory would be the thing that got him going like nothing else.  

 

His old Sunday school teacher would have a  _fit._  

 

“Hank,” Connor says again, purr deepening into a rumbling growl. Something flicks in Hank’s vision, just behind Connor’s head and the sound Hank makes is something of a strangled whine.  

 

Because Connor has a fucking  _tail._  

 

 _Fuck_ , Hank thinks and also says, but who knows because all coherent thought flies out the fucking window and he’s all over Connor like a fucking rash the next second, ripping his own shirt off in the process as he crashes their mouths together. Connor moans happily, legs  _and tail_  wrapping round Hank’s waist as he writhes under him, arching up impatiently for any friction he can get.  

 

Their clothes disappear as they have an alarming habit of doing whenever Connor is involved, either through eager hands or Connor’s particular brand of demonic fuckery, and Hank has one hand wrapped round Connor’s left horn and the other round his dick, stroking both slowly and drawing out the most desperate sounds from the demon under him.  

 

“Hank—“ he gasps, clutching Hank’s shoulders. “Hank,  _please.”_  

 

Christ, Hank loves him  _so fucking much._  

 

It doesn’t take long, they’re pros at this by now, until Hank is pushing into Connor’s willing body. Praise whoever the fuck is responsible for self-lubricating demonic assholes is all Hank is saying. He spreads his knees, one hand clutching under Connor’s thigh as he hits deep, thrusting for all he’s worth to push those shuddering moans from Connor’s throat, groaning as he sinks into tight, wet heat and Connor’s hands fist tightly in his hair.  

 

“ _Hank,”_  Connor moans, breath catching his his throat, flushed from cheek to chest and eyes glazed and heavy-lidded as he pants. “ _Hank, s-so good, I_ _c-can’t—“_  

 

Hank rests his forehead against Connor’s panting as he rolls his hips harder, faster, stomach clenching as he edges closer to coming. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Connor. Hell, if it came down to it, he’d line up to introduce himself to every single one of those eight million siblings if he asked. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do. If Connor was the one asking, Hank would do it. Hank would live forever just to see him smile every day.  

 

And Hank will. He isn’t ever going to lose him.  

 

Connor comes with a shaky cry, back arching clear off the bed as he clutches at Hank, shuddering apart under him and Hank chokes on a groan as he follows, catching Connor’s mouth in a clumsy kiss that’s more teeth than anything else but it’s perfect and he feels like he’s going to shake apart from the force of the pleasure surging through his veins. Connor whines, sprawled out under him, but takes Hank’s weight easily as he collapses across his chest. Connor’s tail trails lightly up Hank’s spine and he huffs a faint laugh into the demon’s neck.  

 

“Don’t tell me that thing is prehensile.” 

 

“Fully,” Connor tells him with breathless amusement.  

 

 

— 

 

 

Cole is a jittery mess of excitement when they get him home, and it’s only because of Connor’s endless patience – and Hank’s quiet bribery of new video games – that gets him washed and dressed before Connor’s lot are due to arrive. Hank’s basically just a raw nerve at this point, but Connor’s quiet collected demeanour is enough to soothe him. The soft kisses help too.  

 

He doesn’t feel too overdressed. A button down and slacks while Connor sports a pristine blue shirt that’s dangerously close to the colour of the suit they wore when they met, and a pair of pressed trousers that look fresh off the hanger. Cole’s dressed the part too, and Sumo’s been banished to his bed so he doesn’t cover them in drool and dog hair.  

 

When the doorbell finally goes, Hank nearly jumps out of his skin. Connor’s there in an instant and Hank doesn’t even have time to prepare before five impeccably dressed demons are filing into his home, each of them pulling Connor into a tight embrace as they enter.  

 

“It’s so good to see you all,” Connor beams. He holds an arm out and both Hank and Cole head over – Hank slogs, Cole fuckin’ bounds – to stand beside him so they can be introduced.  

 

“Auntie North!” Cole chirps to Hank’s utter shock and the only woman in the group leans down to scoop him up with a tender smile. She has a shock of red hair and a piercing expression that makes Hank instinctively wary, but Cole seems to trust her and kids always know.  

 

And Hank knows Cole’s met at least two of them before. He doesn’t like to think about when.  

 

“A pleasure to meet you,” one of Connor’s brothers says. He has a kind face and heterochromia, which Hank thinks is an odd thing for a demon to have. “I’m Markus. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

 

“God, I hope not,” Hank says, managing a smile. Markus laughs softly, so that’s something at least.  

 

“This is our sister North,” Markus says. North offers a curt nod before turning back to Cole and Hank’s more than a little relieved. “Our brother Josh.” Josh steps forward to shake Hank’s hand with a kind smile and Hank feels himself relax a bit more. “And my mate Simon.” 

 

Simon steps forward with a shy air about him, gently shaking Hank’s hand with a murmured greeting and Hank just about stops himself from frowning because he’s  _pretty_  sure Connor said Simon was a succubus, and he’s not quite sure how that works out with the whole family/sibling dynamic.  

 

“Demons” seems to be the best explanation.  

 

The fifth and final guest is the last to step forward and Hank feels very small all of a sudden. Not to mention completely fucking thrown, because this is obviously the infamous Nines and he’s Connor’s  _exact double._ Except for the fact that he’s half a foot taller, more stoic and…  _thicker?_ If that’s even how to describe him.  

 

“Pleasure to meet you,” he intones. He does not offer his hand for Hank to shake and Hank is absolutely fine with that.  

 

“And you,” Hank says. “All of you. Come on in, make yourselves at home. Can I get anyone a drink?” 

 

Thankfully no one asks for anything creepy like blood or the souls of the innocent, so Hank pours seven glasses of merlot and a glass of juice for Cole, bringing the drinks into the living room on a tray.  

 

Cole is sandwiched between North and Nines and the huge Connor looks considerably softer now that he’s engrossed in whatever Cole is telling him.  

 

“So tell us about yourself,” Markus says, leaning forward. “We’ve heard some from Connor, obviously, but we’ve all been very eager to meet you.” 

 

It sounds sincere but the glances Nines and North throw his way don’t seem to match up to Markus’ words.  

 

“Oh, there’s not much to tell,” Hank says awkwardly, taking a long drink from his glass. “I’m a lieutenant for the DPD. I, uh… Yeah, I’ve got nothing else.” He laughs awkwardly. “I’m suddenly aware of how very uninteresting I am.” 

 

Connor rolls his eyes fondly. “He isn’t at all,” he says with an air of exasperation. “Hank’s a jazz fan, he loves the Detroit Gears. He loves crime novels and romance novels—“ 

 

“Oi!” 

 

“—And he’s a wonderful father.” 

 

Hank flushes at that. It’s great to hear, even if he’s not a big fan of being talked up to others.  

 

“Oh, I love jazz,” Simon says in that soft way Hank’s already come to appreciate. Unobtrusive and kind. Everything Hank is not. Go figure. “There’s a delightful jazz café near where we live. Wyoming Avenue, do you know it?” 

 

“Oh, yeah,” Hank says, nodding. “Haven’t been there in years. It still going?” 

 

“Yes, thankfully. I enjoy it there a lot.” 

 

“Simon’s nostalgic,” Markus says fondly. “The twenties were some of his favourite years.” 

 

“Oh, fair,” Hank says, then stops. “Wait, the  _nineteen_  twenties?” 

 

“Yes,” Markus says slowly, scarily similar to the way Connor does when he thinks Hank is being particularly stupid.  

 

“Ace,” Hank says, because what the fuck else can he say?  

 

 _Demons_ , he thinks again.  

 

“So, you guys are finally getting married,” North cuts in, holding her empty wineglass our to Connor wordlessly. He refills it without comment though Hank would definitely have something to say about that if he wasn’t certain she could actually kill him. “Bit fast isn’t it?” 

 

“Oh boy,” Hank mutters. This is  _exactly_  what he knew would happen.  

 

“North,” Connor says patiently. “Shut up.” 

 

North grins. “I’m just saying. You’ve been feeling for all of… what, a year and some change? You sure you want to settle down now? Not explore any…” She eyes Hank very pointedly. “Other options?” 

 

That would sting if Hank hadn’t thought the exact same on many occasions. Alright, fuck, it still stings, but he’s damn well not gonna let it show.  

 

“I know what I want,” Connor says evenly. His eyes flash and North doesn’t comment further.  

 

“Connor had always been very level-headed,” Nines says in that quiet, dangerous voice. “Even if he was the last of us to learn.” 

 

Hank’s curiosity piques at that. “You can all feel?” 

 

“Yes,” Josh says, speaking up at last. “It’s not easy for our kind, we don’t feel as humans do. But we can learn to… not emulate it, because we do feel, but it’s in a more… Hmm…  _distinct_  way. It’s difficult to explain.” 

 

“It’s fiercer,” Connor tells him. “More untamed. Not a lot of us want to feel, but for us, we fell because we wanted to.” 

 

“Oh, don’t fucking start,” North says, ignoring the glare from both Markus and Connor at the expletive in the vicinity of young ears. Hank is content to let it slide. Cole’s smart and it’s not like Hank is a paragon of clean language. “I don’t wanna sit here listening to the tale of the fallen angels again. And I’m pretty sure Hank doesn’t give a crap.” 

 

“I don’t,” Hank agrees. “You all obviously made your choices or you wouldn’t be here. No point dwelling on the past.” 

 

“Okay, see, he gets it.” North nods with something close to approval. “Maybe he is actually worthy of our little brother.” 

 

“I’m not  _little,_ ” Connor bristles. “We’re exactly the same age.” 

 

“Markus, the welp is moaning again. I can’t hear him over the sound of my elevated status.” 

 

Connor gapes. “You absolutely did  _not._ ” 

 

North grins fiercely. “I absolutely did. You’re looking at one of the fifth circle, baby bro.” 

 

Connor makes a disgruntled sound low in his throat and Markus sighs, leaning over to give North’s shoulder a shove. “You’re not making a good impression.” 

 

“Not trying to,” North says.  

 

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Hank quips. “If I have to behave, so do you.” 

 

North regards him for a long moment. “I like him,” she declares, and then promptly ignores him in favour of Cole who hasn’t stopped talking for a second since they sat down.  

 

“Fifth circle…” Hank says. “Wrath? Figures.” 

 

“How do you know that?” Connor asks, eyes wide. 

 

“Divine Comedy,” Hank says with a shrug. “Don’t look at me like that, I don’t like classic literature, but you’ll read anything when you’re trying to procrastinate studying for a final.” 

 

Josh snorts. “That’s the truth. I wish my students wouldn’t leave it until the last moment to finish their assignments.” 

 

“You underestimate the power of teenagers,” Hank says seriously. “They absolutely can and will shit out a ten thousand word essay at four am the morning of the due date, fuelled by nothing but caffeine and despair.” 

 

Josh laughs and Hank mentally ticks off his checklist of siblings he has the approval of. So far, three out of five is pretty good. He can’t quite get a read on Simon because he’s so quite and Nines… Well. He’s not even sure where to start.  

 

 

— 

 

 

Dinner is… Uneventful. Hank’s actually a little disappointed. In the end, they’re just like any other group of siblings. They rib each other constantly, it there’s affection there, along with inside jokes in a language that hurts Hank’s ears to listen to. The conversations swells to include him easily, and he actually finds himself enjoying a group’s company more than he has in years. He even finds himself considering sending his sister a text after all this time.  

 

Something to think about later, maybe. He’s sure Connor would approve.  

 

It’s not until after dinner, when Cole’s gone to bed and the conversation lulls, that Nines raps Hank on the shoulder as he refills his glass.  

 

“Might I have a private word, Lieutenant?” Nines asks, though it really doesn’t sound like a question. More of a thinly veiled threat. Hank swallows and nods, gesturing for the back door.  

 

“We can chat outside,” he says with forced cheer. “That okay?” 

 

“It is acceptable.” 

 

“Great. That’s… Great.” 

 

Hank opens the door and slips out into the mild spring evening. Nines follows, pulling the door to behind them.  

 

“Is this the part where you tell me if I hurt your brother no one will find my body?” Hank asks. He is not joking.  

 

“No,” Nines says. “I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?” 

 

“Nope.” 

 

Nines folds his hands behind his back. It’s alarming how similar he is to how Connor was in the beginning. Cold and calculated. Stiff. It’s hard to believe Nines can actually feel. There’s something so very other about him that’s got Hank on edge more than the others have.  

 

“Connor is very dear to me,” Nines says. “I fell after he did. I wanted to watch over him, you understand. I am not one for sentiment, Lieutenant, but when it comes to my family, I am very protective.” 

 

“I get that,” Hank says. “I mean, I did summon Connor to bring my son back, you know? I think a lot of people forget that.” 

 

Nines doesn’t smile, but something softens in his eyes, the same way it does when he’s talking to Cole. “He’s a remarkable child,” Nines says. “He is fortunate to have a father like you.” 

 

“Well. Shit.” Hank gives an awkward laugh. “That’s… Shit, that’s real good of you to say. Thanks. But he’s got two dads looking out for him now. I couldn’t… I couldn’t do this without Connor. None of it would be possible without him. I’m not… The easiest guy to get along with. Hell, I’m not even the nicest guy. I’m an asshole, I know that. But… I really do love him.” 

 

“I see that,” Nines says. “Which is why I wanted to warn you.” 

 

Hank freezes. His body locks up and his veins run dry. “Warn me? The fuck does that mean?” 

 

“Cole has not made a deal with a demon,” Nines says. He’s not looking at Hank. He’s looking up at the stars, expression carefully blank. “His soul is safe. One day he will die, and he will, depending on his choices, either serve penance in our realm or ascend.” 

 

“I,” says Hank. Nothing else comes.  

 

“My concern is thus,” Nines continues. “Your life is tied to my brother’s. You are undoubtedly aware of your own immortality, yes?” 

 

“Yeah,” Hank breathes because it’s the truth. He is aware. And he’s coming to terms with it.  

 

“Cole is mortal. Fully mortal. And there are beings who will ensure he stays that way.” 

 

“Cut the cryptic bullshit,” Hank snaps, the ice in his veins melting away under the sudden surge of anger. “This is my son you’re talking about. What the hell is going on?” 

 

Nines finally looks at him. His eyes are very blue and very, very deep. “Angels,” he says. “They will interfere. And they will take him.” 

 

“No, they won’t,” Hank says. “Trust me, Nines, no they fucking won’t. Ain’t a creature from heaven or hell that can take our son from us. Not now, not ever.” 

 

Nines regards him coolly. “I believe you,” he says. “And you have my word that my siblings and I will help protect him should the time come. In exchange for… Call it a favour. Not quite a deal.” 

 

Hank has a sickening feeling he knows what he needs to do. Suddenly it all makes sense. “You can’t feel, can you?” 

 

Nines shakes his head. “No, I cannot. I fell when my siblings did, yes, I followed after Connor. I am loyal to them, but I do not feel as they do.” 

 

“So, what, you want me to teach you, too?” 

 

Nines shrugs. It’s the most human gesture Hank’s seen him make. “It does not have to be you. But I would appreciate the assistance. I have attempted many times to learn from humans, and yet the ability to break through the barriers of who I am still escapes me. I do not know why, but I am unable to learn. Not even from my siblings.” 

 

Hank lets out a heavy sigh. “Shit, that’s… rough.” 

 

“Indeed.” 

 

Hank considers. “The humans you tried to learn from… They have anything in common?” 

 

Nines makes a thoughtful sound and, now that Hank knows the demon can’t feel, he hears how hollow it it. “I suppose… The prevalent similarity was their attempt to have me understand love. It makes little sense. It’s a highly illogical emotion.” 

 

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Hank agrees with a soft laugh. “Alright, so you need someone who can get through to you without going down the sappy “love is everything” route.” He considers. And then the idea hits him right between the eyes.  

 

It’s a stupid idea. So stupid it might actually work.  

 

“I think…” Hank says slowly. “I might know someone who’d be perfect for you.” 

 

 

— 

 

 

Connor’s siblings finally leave and Hank strips out of his stupid fancy clothes and falls face first into bed in just his boxers, groaning into the pillows. Connor joins him a few minutes later, cool body curling around him and purring quietly.  

 

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly. “That meant a lot to me. They all like you, you know. Even North which is… Well.” 

 

Hank turns his head to look at Connor, giving him a tired smile. “Love you,” he mumbles, humming when Connor leans forward to kiss his cheek softly. 

 

“What did Nines have to say to you?” 

 

Hank stretches, yawning. “Oh, you know. “Hurt my brother, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident”. That kind of thing.” 

 

“Aha. Well, that’s not unexpected.” 

 

“I may also have helped him out a little bit. In exchange for… Well, a guarantee.” 

 

Connor balks. “You made a deal with Nines?” 

 

“Yeah. The human way. We shook on it.” 

 

Connor relaxes at that. “I doubt you’re going to elaborate.” 

 

“Not right now.” Hank yawns again, so wide his jaw aches. “I will, though. When I can get everything sorted out in my head.” 

 

“Understandable.” Connor makes a happy sound as Hank rolls to pull him into his arms proper. “I love you.” 

 

Hank hums sleepily. “Love you, too. And hey.” 

 

“Mm?” 

 

“You, uh. You want to meet my sister?” 

 

Connor beams. “I’d like that very much.” 

 

Hank nods, eyes drifting closed. “Then we’ll do it. In the morning, though. I’m so tired.” 

 

“Sleep, my love. All is well.” 

 

Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Maybe they’ll have a hoard of angels after them soon enough. Maybe they won’t. Either way, Hank has a family he would die to protect, and considering he can’t actually die now, it’s a lot easier to protect them than it would’ve been not long ago.  

 

He falls asleep content with the knowledge that no matter what happens, they’ll be together. A family.  

 

That, and Gavin’s going to absolutely shit himself when he meets his new partner.  

 

 

 

 


End file.
